


Jerez Joker

by kiba_kai



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Mild Drama, MotoGP, MotoGP RPF - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiba_kai/pseuds/kiba_kai
Summary: The new guy arrives at MarcVDS team.





	1. Jerez Joker

**Author's Note:**

> \- Written as a bet, I'd write one short fic for every Podium Franky make in 2016 season (the bet was made when he wasn't score much, turned out later that he made my weekends very busy) lol 
> 
> first chapter was for Alex birthday

Title: Jerez Joker  
Fandom: GP  
Pairing: FMAM  
Genre: RPS, ficlet  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
Note: ENG is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing. Photo from official site

 

 

Franco POV

 

.

.

 

It hasn’t been easy here at SpanishGP.

In fact, it hasn’t been easy at all.

Being inside the circle of people that already know one another by heart, and I’m here as someone they barely know. Yet they expect something from me.

Actually ones could say that I am in the best place possible for this Moto2 Championship; under Mr. Van de Straten’s wings. This place is very nice, nicer than I ever could hope for; with brand new equipments and parts and everything that money can buy, but I don’t know if anyone would be as sincere as my friends back at the Ranch.

But great rider needs to grow up, yes?

My teacher told me,

‘The key is to win a heart.’ He said while pass me a can of Estrella beer. ‘Make them likes you, then it’ll take no effort for them to help you.’

Just like me and friends at the Ranch, I guess?

But it won’t come easy.

For it was so hard for someone like me to get inside.

Because I am not even a friend.

I am an enemy.

.

.

It is 23th of April and I can’t help but notice the celebration mood in my paddock.

“It’s his birthday, he’ll become 20 today.” One of mechanics says.

Oh.

Him.

The golden boy of ‘pistol team’ as the nick name they entitled themselves.

20 is not young nor old age, it’s a little in between teenager and being adult. Ones would start seeking glory as much as still want attentions.

Maybe I still am, too.

I see they turn down the light just before he comes in, preparing everything; cake, candles, small firecrackers for us to make him feel good.

To make him smile.

And he does.

He smiles the biggest while saying thanks to everyone.

But then he stops when our eyes met.

I mutter ‘Happy Birthday’ under my breath, hoping he’ll get it.

Walking out and haven’t seen him since, because I know when I’m not needed. Not that I’m upset or anything, I just want him to have some space.

Tonight is his night, let’s not ruin it.

.

The 2nd days of practicing and qualifying runs smoothly. I spot some fans waving his blue flag and birthday banner near our garage.

“His fans are always cute.” One of mechanic notice that.

They must have fall for his eyes…

“Celebrating his birthday on the grid with fans will be good, this season is quite tough for him.” Our boss says out of thin air. He must follow every riders’ performance closely. The fact that in past 3 circuits he hasn’t score any point… Actually not finish any races.

This must be hard, but tomorrow he will do well, his qualifying time is the best one since this season started.

His seat is empty after the qualify round.

Meeting some guests? Lots of famous people often drop by to see him.

“Someones here to see you.” My assistance tells me.

That is my teacher and his brother which is also my friend, they congratulates me when I’m not so bad, 4th position is quite tough when the standard is very high.

“What about your teammate?” Sometime he asks because they used to be close, my teammate idolize my teacher, too. In fact, everyone does.

“He’ll be fine, better than previous races.” I shrug.

“He’s a good kid, you should get to know him.” He pats me on the shoulder.

“You’re the best one of us, has he even know that?” My friend jokes about it, not really true. no one is better, just which circuit and setting suit each of us more.

They wish me good luck and then leave.

I turn back to the garage and just notice my teammate’s eyes follow my teacher.

And then he sees me.

Pulling a dry smile as usual and turns back.

.

Since the rivalry between my teacher and me teammate’s brother broke out, everything changes.

The feeling at first when I know who will be my partner was all good, like my teacher said, he’s a good kid which everyone adore. Smiling brightest when he and his brother owned the championship in the same year, which is incredible. He’s also brave enough to protect his brother’s ground when has to. Polite enough to answer malicious question with a smile.

Gentle enough to care for me when I crashed out from podium contender position.

But taking my teacher’s advice is the hardest part; getting to know him.

I don’t know how.

.

.

The race day comes.

I’m not sure but it feels like he looks more determine than ever.

If I pat him on the shoulder… or maybe on the back will it strange?

“Good luck.”

That isn’t my voice.

And no one’s around me…

But him.

…

I stare at him blankly.

For a while it almost seems rude.

“Good luck.”

I answer back with dumbest thing I could think of, which I probably didn’t think at all.

I’m not sure if he smile back because he’s already wear that new helmet.

.

The Jerez sky is so bright while the racing is as intense as ever. I was too busy focusing on chasing the victory to notice that his info board was long gone.

Until I go back to my box after getting 4th position, that I know that he crashed.

…again.

On his birthday’s week.

In his home grand prix.

He hasn’t score any point since this season start.

.

I can’t smile right now.

Despite my best result of the season, but I just can’t.

His whole pistol team is still here for packing quietly.

But he isn’t.

Probably in his brother’s motorhome…

.

.

The night comes.

Our teams are at the hotel nearby the circuit. Some of mechanics ask if I want to join the drink. I hesitate only a moment before going along.

If I cannot get to know my teammate, might as well try it with his mechanic because I don’t think he’ll join us tonight.

But I was wrong.

After half of us drunk enough to let me play Brazilian music, he comes, looking slightly sober. So, he has been drinking, too.

“With who?”

.

Oh.

Did I ask that aloud?

Because they all look at me like I suddenly grow another head.

I wave my hand as dismissal and walk out the door.

.

But not too far from the room they’ve been drinking, I’m being pulled to stop.

It’s him.

“What did you ask me earlier?” I smell booze on him but not cigarette.

“I’m not sure.”

“You did, but not in full sentence, so I don’t know what to answer.” He words slurs a little.

Kinda cute. “Nevermind.”

“Hey, then let me talk to you instead. I know that you don’t like me but there’s no need to leave when I arrive, you know…”

Don’t like him?

Who?

Me?

This is madness.

Because I’m going crazy over here.

.

No.

…Not like I’m going to tell him that.

.

“I don’t, don’t like you, you know.” Where is my ability to form a simple sentence?

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“…So, you like me?”

What kind of logic is that? But coming from two drunk teammates, this probably be normal. “I don’t, either.”

“You’re not making any sense.” He sits down against the wall.

“You and me both.” I sigh, and move to sits across him.

.

We’re both gone quiet for a whole minute, sinking in the fact that this is the first time we actually going to talk.

“…Congratulation on your almost-podium today.” He bites his lips.

“…Thanks.”

It could be a place where I congrats him back but this is not the situation. He might thinking the same thing, because his face fell a little.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” I tells him. “…all your crashes.”

“…? How?”

“Maybe I am cursed and it’s my words that jinxed.”

His eyebrows raise a bit.

“Everytime I wish for your good luck, you crashes.”

Everytime.

Whether he hears them or not.

.

So why is he laughing right now?

I mean, really laughing, I’ve never seen him like this.

It’s not like I said something funny… or it is?

“Then it’s your fault?” He wipes tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes.

“Yes.”

So stop being miserable and keep trying.

.

He laughs a bit more but I’m not sure if I said the last sentence out loud.

“I will, thanks.” He said while getting up.

But before he goes, “Wait, if you’re cursed, does this mean I’m blessed?”

I nod.

Yes, because his wish works. I’m safe and lucky today.

“Ok, then after this, I’ll start wishing for myself instead of you.”

.

Oh.

He…?

.

Then it’s my turn to laugh, this is truly a lucky day.

And now I realize that all the things those around me said is true; that he’s so nice and being adored by everyone… the mechanics, the reporters, the fans.

.

They must have fallen for his eyes…

…too

.

.

.

.

Fin

 

 

.

 

.

 

A/N : 2016 AM birthday


	2. Assen Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex POV

 

Title: Assen Agony  
Fandom: GP  
Pairing: FMAM  
Genre: RPS, ficlet  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
Note: ENG is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
Note2: this story comes after [Jerez Joker]   
Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from official site

 

Alex POV

.

.

 

.

.

.

Podium.

A podium.

Wow.

I can’t believe how happy I am right now.

No, the podium is not for me, for him. he deserve it.

.

Even the fact that I finally finish the race within top ten cannot make my heart beat this fast. When I see his name so high up there on the tower I couldn’t stop grinning. Good thing that the team mistaken it for my own achievement otherwise I cannot explain it.

Everytime he try so hard to climb up there on those glorious steps and miss it just a bit further from his grasp, he hide it, his disappointment.

And I see it everytime, too.

When no one was looking…

When the light is fading…

.

The reserved look on his face said it all, those consolations never work.

Not even once.

.

.

The first time I heard about my new teammate at the beginning of this season, I was so thrilled. He’s one of the big name from the most famous racing academy that I always admire. I expect him to be my motivation and even… a friend, at least I hope. It looked that way until I finally meet him.

He was so quiet.

And so damn fast.

Just a flick of his wrist or even a twist of his ankle make whole new differences. He made everything so easy with the same machine that I use.

But he was better.

I knew, at that moment he dismount the bike and look at me…

I was ruin.

Determination shone bright in his eyes, like he was trying to prove something, which I really wanted to tell him that he don’t need to. Our team worked like that, once we’re in, we’re family. But he was placing himself away from us.

Perfectly understandable… Just because his teacher and my brother were suddenly clashed, biting tooth and nail. And I was not sure which make me sadder; the fact that my brother lost his dear mentor or that fact that my teammate edged away from us. It must came to him that all of us take my brother’s side and he’s not an ally we can trust.

No one can make him talk.

I never know him so I wasn’t sure how was he normally be around people, turned out that he was entirely different.

I saw his friends came over.

They hugged.

They talked.

He smiled.

He joked around.

He smiled a lot more.

.

And they kissed.

.

No, it wasn’t any strange kiss or anything, just friendly one on the cheek, which we all give to family or closest friends.

I just …

…didn’t expect.

… that he was capable of losing himself like that.

They must be really close.

I wonder how many years it took for this.

.

Not like I’d start counting.

Seriously, no.

.

.

.

After that, I want to try… like, make him talk a bit more but I never had a chance.

Everytime I came in the room, he left. I wasn’t sure if it was intentionally on his part but after several months, it was.

I even try asking mechanics and PR manager to set me up… like for some reason for us to spend time together; small party, go-cart racing, spot shooting.

They failed.

Miserably.

Because, in between those forced duty, he didn’t need to talk just be there and hide behind someone. And after that he just sort of left. Even the time that one of our staff got birthday on the racing week, our PR manager ask us both to bring the cake. He did, politely …and very politely so, he dismiss the party with some competent excuse.

… I wasn’t desperate.

Not that much.

.

Until one race that I try wishing him luck… Actually, I wasn’t my intention because he might not care …but that was my birthday so the air of happiness that swell in my chest was too great I want to share with someone. Turned out that he got this dazed look… and wish me back, too.

Lucky that I was wearing my helmet, otherwise he’d think that I was crazy.

.

That weekend I crashed.

…and it hurted, more than any other races because it was so important; both for being my birthday and home race.

I can’t stand the disappointment so I went away with my brother. Good thing that I wasn’t a kid anymore so I can drink, hoping that would make me forget.

It did.

I forgot the bad blow of the crash.

But I didn’t forget him.

He still move away from the room… away from us, might be heading to the dark corner somewhere and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

We needed to talk.

And talk, we did.

I was still thankful for my courage that night, because I finally understand how his mind work.

He was a good guy… very good one. In fact, his intention was too good to be mistaken as anything else. The way he cheer me up worked like magic and it was understatement.

Just one minute of our drunken talk open him up more than these several months that he was here.

And I never want to lose that again.

.

.

Until now that he achieve the first step of his goals, getting this hard-earn podium, I’m watching him from the corner of my box.

It would be weird if I walk up to the fence? It must be, we’re not that close.

Moreover, his friends from the academy are already all over him; talking, congratulating, smiling…

…kissing.

.

He’s like a hero of our team on the podium, even the 3rd place is so important , it means that all of us accomplish something; teamwork.

I smile at that.

I smile at him.

I think I should congratulate him when he come back.

.

But he’s kinda… disappear.

I’m told that after he thanks all his mechanics, he’ll receive our boss and will come back later.

I wait.

And wait.

A while

Until I see it from my PR manager that he’s already off with his academy friends.

…Must be a party of some sort because his teacher is notorious about celebrating.

.

His friends come first, of course.

I should have know that.

It isn’t a duty for teammate to say something in this situation, I’m sure he’s not even expecting it.

…I could be childish, be bitter and jealous of his accomplishment but I don’t feel any of those.

I just…

…miss a chance.

.

To think that …it’s me who see the most of his bad days;

when he crashes,

when he’s hurt,

when he’s sad,

when he …cry.

.

I am there.

…whether he sees me or not

.

So, I just… a bit sad not to be the first one who say that he deserve this prize, to say that it should have been his many races ago…

To say that he’s an inspiration.

…and to say that now he can cry the tears he hide.

.

But his friends and teacher might says them all already and they’re totally meaningless now.

I should pack my bags and leave this empty pit box.

.

.

“…Hi.”

I almost jump at the voice.

.

It’s him.

Still in his racing suit, with one hand holding helmet and that precious trophy in the other.

Why hasn’t he change?

It’s been…

Wait.

He won. Of course, he need to do some interviews! …tons of them, to be exact. Being the star of famous academy, those Italian presses are always dote on him, not to count the clips for our teams and our sponsors…

No wonder he still hasn’t rest…

So, not likely to be gone for the party…?

.

Of course… not.

I want to hit my head with something, maybe with the thing he just hand me…

It’s…

… A trophy.

“What…?” I carefully hold it straight.

He’s scratching something behind his neck. “I’m not sure what you’ll think about this… so, I’m sorry.”

“What??” I repeat my earlier question with higher tone, I don’t…

“It just… my friends said that you might, you know, …angry.”

“About you getting a podium?” It’s ridiculous!

“…That I get a podium before you.” He turns away.

Jesus, “No, I’m not!” This is the best thing that happens in this several months and he just let his friend make him feel bad about it?!

Damn it, why are they like this? I’m so …

“Hey, hey. I’m sorry. …you are angry after all.” The last part is a low mutter but we’re standing so close, I can hear it.

And I can’t have it.

Before I can stop myself, I’m so angry I end up saying everything I want to say,

“If there’s anything that makes me angry right now, it’s you. Yes, you who act like you take this prize so lowly but inside you know that you earn it with every drop of blood, sweats and tears. I’ve seen it all, when shed them over and over.” I look down at the trophy and hand it back. “And don’t think even for a second that I would be angry over something ‘my friend’ deserve. Oh, or maybe you really don’t take it seriously because you’re here to brag about many more of this will come soon, well, are you?” He gulps and shake his head. “Then you shut up about my feeling and just go to your academy friends, who each one of them are completely a dick, to brag about how many asses you kick including some of theirs.”

.

There.

I said that.

But why does he looks so surprise?

He can’t expect me to be a docile boy who never curse once in my life, is he?

Oh god.

He does.

.

He looks so speechless, no, more like a stunned… but then he laughs.

“Looks like you and I have a lot of talking to do.”

I sigh angrily, “Yes, and it starts today. Go get change.”

“And…?”

“And we’ll smash some Assen bars to the ground.”

.

There you go.

.

He smiles.

.

.

.

.

.

Fin

 

 

.

 

.

 

A/N : 2016 FM Assen Podium

 


	3. Spielberg Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian POV (MarcVDS PR manager)

 

  
Title: Spielberg Storm 

Fandom: GP 

Pairing: FMAM 

Genre: RPS, ficlet 

Rating: PG 

Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.

 Note: ENG  is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me. 

Note2: this story comes after [Assen Agony] 

Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from official site

 

Ian POV  
.  
.  
   
.  
.  
.  
   
   
   
   
Life as a PR and social media manager of Marc VDS team wasn’t easy. From my first-hand experience I can tell you that it takes a lot of life force out of one person.  
   
Let’s say it very much consist of struggling, swearing and profanities.  
   
We got one crazy guy and a good kid in the premiere class. For intermediate class we have our resident sweetheart rider, Alex and… a new guy, Franco.  
   
Right now we can’t technically call him ‘new’ because it’s been half a season already. At first I got an impression that he would be a funny guy, which I wasn’t quite wrong about that but wasn’t quite right either. The first time I saw him in person was in his hometown, Italy, the day we signed him. He was like a beloved big brother amongst those talented Academy kids, funny to the core. My boss already liked him from the way he ride, even more please with his personality.  
   
But the first day he join us I was confused because he looks like a different person; quiet and reserved. Must be something relating to complicated relationship his teacher got with his teammate’s brother. All in all, he become quite hard to approach but my boss let it slide because he’s like a beast on the wheels.  
   
Nothing wrong with not being friendly but for me it is quite a hard job to get an atmosphere right. Do you know how hard it is to get a decent photo of two teammates that doesn’t get along?  
   
Bloody hard.  
   
So far, I cunningly arranged one or two events for them just to be close. Not that our Spanish resident sweetheart rider hasn’t try to talk to the new guy, he did, surprisingly. Even cooperated well with me for those silly (and sad) excuses to get him join the fun.  
   
But the character I saw in him hasn’t been brought out until that 17 hours hellish trip from Argentina to Austin. I caught him timing the trip since the first moment we accepted our fate, that aviation route wasn’t available. He did just for fun and there’s not even one moment that I caught any irritation or complaining from him. Later, I found out that his teacher even offered him a seat on private chopper.  
   
Which he declined.  
   
I don’t understand him back then.  
   
.  
   
Anyway, Turned out that taking cramps tour bus for 17 hours wasn’t so bad. We discovered good and weird habits for each one of us; not just 4 riders, all of us. Saw how we take this situation; some annoyed, some complained, some just shrugged it off.  
   
But one enjoyed it.  
   
Who?  
   
Our Spanish rider, yes, the cute one always find every situation fun, including this. He sat not far back from the new guy on purposed because most of us often talk to him or offer him something to eat, drink or play with, and for the reason that we had to go pass the guy and automatically stop by, he did it just to make his new teammate wouldn’t feel neglected.  
   
Good kid.  
   
And there’s something I was a bit proud of; I made the guy smiled once, accidentally. But hey, that counted. I commented a bit about our grid girls, saying that Latino ladies got the best curves and he smiled. I just came to me that he’s the son of prodigy Italian rider and Brazilian model…  
   
His mom must be hot.  
   
…Sorry about that.  
   
But yes, at least he’s a healthy boy who wasn’t shy when answering question about courting Latino girls. He even gave us tips and tricks for Christ’s sake. And the conversation gathered a lot of interest because all of us edging closer, well, except for one.  
   
Our good kid.  
   
He tried so hard not to listen… by putting on earphone, but I saw that he didn’t turned on any music. And the tip of his ears turned bright red, though.  
   
So, that was the beginning of the new guy open up to us. It must be the first time that he realized that we didn’t ganging up against him for the grudge that wasn’t even his.  
   
.  
   
.  
   
After that, the new guy slowly open up a bit more. Only just a bit but it might be too slow for someone’s liking…  
   
My good kid.  
   
“What should we do? I think we tried everything…”  
   
I laughed at this, why? It’s not like the new guy is going anywhere. He’ll be here with us for 2 years at least, why my boy was in such hurry?  
   
“Except talking.” I suggest.  
   
“What if he hate us. …me, in general… you know, Marc and Vale hasn’t been on good terms.”  
   
I laughed harder. “I’m sure he’s fine. Why, you want something from him?”  
   
“NO. No, what could I possibly want… I just… It’ll be better if we could, you know, help each other out about… bike setting.” His normally bright eyes dimmed a bit at such small disappointment.  
   
I kinda agree to this, because in these past 6-7 races, our team hasn’t score an outstanding points. Sure, the new guy was fast; at adjusting, braking and riding in general. But always, bad luck was with him, he could even step on the podium since the first race in Gatar but well, we couldn’t blame Race Direction, are we?  
   
But funny thing is, I asked around about the new guy and turned out that he was already warm up to most of us. He talked to Dave about variety of South America premium roast coffee beans. He talked to Stuey about Brazilian music in the garage. He even talked to me about authentic Italian recipes (and Latino girls, of course!) So it came to me that the last one that he hasn’t strike a conversation with, is the one that got the most things in common with him; his teammate.  
   
Poor kid.  
   
I can’t say he hasn’t try but it’s like the Italian guy’s mission to avoid him at all cost. I’ve seen him almost sprint off when the other come in his line of vision.  
   
But in the garage it’s almost adorable. Let me tell you, both of them study the other’s stat and performance and even drop informative hints for each other’s mechanics.  
   
They didn’t talk face to face but in a sense, they’re very helpful toward each other.  
   
Until one night, few nights after Alex’s Birthday that I notice some changes.  
   
They talked in the dark hallway.  
   
A bit drunk, I guess.  
   
Otherwise my good kid wouldn’t get a courage to.  
   
I couldn’t help but spy on them, you know. I watch them… ok, me and Dave and Stuey and Andrea and even our boss spied on them.  
   
Come on, what else would you do?  
   
After talking for a while, smile on their faces, I saw them walk with each other.  
   
Franco drop Alex off in front of his brother’s motorhome.  
   
Manly shoulder patting… ensure.  
   
No hugging. But…  
   
“Cute.”  
   
That’s exact word from my boss and we all agreed.  
   
We left them at that and looked for more progress on following days, which unsurprisingly, fall back to the same routine; one quiet and the other fidget.  
   
It’s hilarious to see our boy fidgeting! I mean, Alex glance over his teammate every few minutes. And ask with concern everytime Franco fell off the bike.  
   
On the opposite, Franco still quiet but frown when Alex groaned in pain. Stuey had to confirm that his teammate’s injury is a lot minor than Dave’s burn from malfunctioned coffee machine before he gone out another round of practice.  
   
They could have just cross the small divider and ask about each other by themselves…  
   
.  
   
.  
   
   
Things start looking up again when Franco got the first podium for us in Assen. It’s the same day that one of our premiere class rider got first podium, too, on the top step even!  
   
I can tell you that things was super crazy! Every one of us smile and laugh like being processed especially our boss, since he also got on the podium and being sprayed with victorious champagne from both our rider and Alex’s brother.  
   
Did I already told you that our boss is the owner of beer company? So yeah, take a wild guess of how drunk we were, to say that we were partying like we’re the 10th times world champion was understatement. All the beer we had were drowned, but hey, there gotta be someone sober enough to salvage the sunken, right?  
   
That’s me.  
   
Sweet.  
   
I wanted to drink me ass off too but well… gotta look out for the kids, right?  
   
…  
   
But somehow… some kids don’t need looking out.  
   
I er… kinda stumble on couple of them…  
   
My good kid Alex and the new guy, ok let’s not call him like that anymore, ahem, Franco. I saw two of them, you know… hugging.  
   
Finally.  
   
One of my to-do thing to accomplish crossed out.  
   
Damn, why didn’t I get them drunk sooner?  
   
They’re hugging in the dim light corner of our soaked-with-ungodly-alcohol-and-other-things hospitality.  
   
Sitting very close.  
   
Whispering something.  
   
Giggling to god-know-what between two of them.  
   
.  
   
…Was that pecking on the cheek I see?  
   
.  
   
…on the lips?  
   
.  
   
What…  
   
.  
   
Oh no… I must be hallucinating because next thing I saw was them being separated so far.  
   
Very far, like Franco walked out of our roof. Gone.  
   
Only my kid Alex, sat still at the same place with dazed look. Ok, time to bed. Can’t have him get bad hangover for the next test, are we?  
   
“Come on, kid. Do you want to stay with your brother tonight? Jack ain’t stop this party anytime soon.”  
   
He stammered a bit and nod.  
   
“Do you want me to walk you there, or you got your teammate to take care of that?” I teased, since they seems like a buddy already.  
   
Oh dear, my kid turned bright red.  
   
“It’s ok… I … I’ll go by myself, don’t worry.” And he bid everyone goodnight and left.  
   
I didn’t hear from either of them until the next race.  
   
   
.  
   
.  
   
After that, in GermanGP to everyone’s surprise, things between them was a lot worse. No one know why.  
   
Franco was back to his quiet self like the first day he arrived and that was worrisome. Since his teacher and Alex’s brother is now back on good term so there’s no more reason for him to be like this.  
   
We all scratched our head because our good kid is now quiet, too.  
   
“Did you guys fight or something?” I couldn’t help but ask in one of the free practice.  
   
Alex got big eyes, you know, and he don’t know how to hide his feeling that reflected from them.  
   
.  
   
“No.”  
   
.  
   
That screamed YES to me.  
   
I didn’t want to be parenting but this is getting in the way of racing because both of their performances are way below par.  
   
Franco didn’t even turn his head to the right side where his teammate was at all, just kept his head low. And when I asked him the same question.  
   
.  
   
“I’m sorry.”  
   
.  
   
That’s what he said.  
   
What the bloody hell was going on. What was he apologize for?  
   
“Seems like you guys need to clear things up because your answers aren’t matched.” I pat his shoulder and proceed to explain this situation to our boss. Yes, he noticed it, who wouldn’t?  
   
The race came and they both crashed.  
   
BOTH.  
   
Hell.  
   
Whatever issue they had need to be clear up. NOW.  
   
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t mad that they fight. But I don’t like being lied to. I was so determined about this, even in front of the team, I dragged them both, one on each hand to our boss’s VIP room (Yes, he gladly lend it.) and locked them in.  
   
“Don’t come out until you’re good!” I yelled from outside and practically sat in front of the door.  
   
.  
   
Hey, turned out that I was a good idea, you know. At the end of the day, after very much door-banging, pleading and swearing (at me) it was quiet.  
   
For a long while.  
   
They must be talking in really, really low voice because even when I put my ear to the wall (with the glass as an amplifier) I still can’t hear a damn thing.  
   
But they asked for the exit finally. With firm assurance that it won’t happen again. I let them out and the looks on their face were clearly better.  
   
So much better, but I couldn’t pinpoint the details.  
   
Very well, my job was done and that was it.  
   
.  
   
.  
   
.  
   
The next race which is the current one is AustrianGP.  
   
The atmosphere in the garage and the paddock is so high. The mood of happiness is overwhelming I don’t even understand why. Our riders are practically radiating, it’s almost funny. If I didn’t know better I’d say ‘love is in the air’ but that’s just silly.  
   
Our free practices are great.  
   
Our Qualify round is better.  
   
And the race! My dear god, the race is the best! On first few laps, Franco and Alex are on first and second positions, we’re all out of our seats. Even though in the end Alex can’t make it to the podium but it’s his best performance this year, I’m so happy for my boy.  
   
And it’s a second podium for Franco, this second place is his career’s best position! I can’t believe it but we’re all so happy, my cheeks hurt.  
   
Then after all the press duties, Franco return to the garage with brighter smile than last podium…  
   
He go straight to Alex’s box…  
   
And hug.  
   
Boy, I can separate friendly hug from best-friend hug just fine and this categorized in the later one…  
   
Finally, they pull back and …hmm stare at each other in the eyes  
   
Aw. You must hear all the cooing noises we made at them in the same time, because they looks so disgustingly happy.  
   
I’m so proud, my good kid grown up great because he’s genuinely happy for his teammate and that what we are; a family.  
   
Even though I’m not quite sure that the intimate forehead-touching is generally happen amongst kid these day but it might be an Italian thing…  
   
My Italian friend says no.  
   
.  
   
Must be Brazilian thing, though.  
   
.  
   
Anyway, my boss is super happy right now that things are the way they supposed to be. He even generously let Alex go to party with Franco’s friends, those who notorious about hard celebrations, shady party, even. Just because Franco says that he’ll take care of Alex and even escort him back to his brother’s motorhome by himself.  
   
Even though, I got dozen of missed call from Alex’s brother and bunches of message asking his whereabouts last night but I’m sure it’s fine.  
   
.  
   
Not like Franco would steal Alex away, right?  
   
.  
   
I mean, even if he does I’m sure there’s no harm done…  
   
…not without Alex’s consent, right?  
   
.  
   
All in all, things are definitely looks up for our team.  
   
   
.  
   
.  
   
   
Peace out!  
   
Ian.

 

 

 

 

 

  
Fin  
   
   
.  
   
.  
   
A/N : 2016 FM Austrian Podium  
/ in real life Morbidelli doesn't related to Morbidelli bike factory (someone just clear this up later after I wrote this)


	4. Silverstone Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc POV

 

title: Silverstone Sky  
Fandom: GP  
Pairing: FMAM  
Genre: RPS, ficlet  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
Note: ENG is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
Note2: this story comes after [Spielberg Storm]  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from official site

 

Marc POV

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I don’t like it.

I don’t like this at all.

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How many times have I swear after Moto2 race this year? Almost every single one.

Here in this CatalunGP I’m watching the race from my motohome just like every time. My little brother, Alex would be here soon after the race, sulking about crashing or bad result.

I’m not sure what happens to him this year. Is it about bike setting, tire problem, or engine that make his performance a bit worse than last year. He’s always doing fine in practice or testing but when it comes to racing…

Is he intermediated by hunger from all the riders? Nah. This isn’t his first year, he should get used to the atmosphere by now. The mechanics are the same, his team are the same… even the coffee maker is the same guy from last year, so what’s the difference?

…OH

There’s one thing.

…His teammate!

That Italian/Brazilian guy, Franco with very long and weird surname.

And he has to come from THAT famous academy.

The academy which the owner hates my gut.

Putting my baby brother with his ace student together was a disaster from the start, I should know it. All this year I’ve seen a lot of disappointment from my brother and I’m doing my best to cheer him up. I know how he must feel, we have many races in our home country which he crashed in first one and score no point in the second. Not to mention many crashes that happen between. I’m really sorry about his situation this year.

It has be something to do with his teammate, I’m sure!

Franco’s riding style is vicious and merciless, maybe those mechanics do something to the acceleration and braking and also has my brother’s bike modified to suit that new guy!

I asked him about this once; if that Italian menace make his life harder?

He didn’t say yes but didn’t say no either.

My brother kinda admit that Franco guy distract him a bit. Tch!! How could anyone not? When your teammate riding like a wild beast in the same track you do!

What?

…No, this is not about me.

.

Anyway, so that’s mean that this guy is surely responsible for my brother’s string of unfortunate result! I have to do something about this. …but how? When that guy got a best back up in this racing career, his teacher.

…And I can’t upset that person further.

Never mind, I’ll think of something!

.

.

The familiar knocking pulls bitter smile on my face, my baby brother comes in and sitting in the far corner. He said nothing. Instead of ranting, he tries his best to wish me luck.

Yes, I’m racing in 30 minutes, he knows I need concentration. My sweet brother.

We’ll talk about it later.

And talking we do.

After the race that I could say I’m satisfy with because there’s one point that Franco’s teacher change his mind about me. I mean, about our grudge/rivalry/bickering that’s been going on for many months. …I must admit that, all this time, it tears me apart, braking my heart in pieces, leaving big hollow in my soul… but what else can I do beside accept it. Not only my fight with Valentino effects me greatly, but my brother too. So, after he accepts my hand and publicly end our rivalry, from now, that Franco guy would back off about my baby brother a bit.

At least, just stay away from my Alex.

AS FAR AS HE CAN.

.

..

.

At AssenGP, I’m so happy with my baby brother’s result that’s greatly improved, he’s in top ten!

My analysis was right, that Franco guy has been giving my brother a hard time all along! So when his teacher no longer holds any grudge against me, that Franco guy must be told to stop meddling with my brother.

Just as I thought!

I re-watch the race and my brother’s teammate got a podium.

Well… I don’t care.

All the team must be celebrating, I should go looking for Alex because he’s not good with alcohol. And I hear that his teammate party a lot; all the models and celebrities would love a chance to get close to those academy kids who might be famous in the future.

…Who know what they do to qualify as ‘celebration’. Well I can’t leave my baby brother with the guy that radiate bad influence!

Just when I’m about to go out my motorhome, a familiar knocking signals me that Alex is here.

With face all red and smelling of booze.

“What happen?” I frown.

“What? …No, nothing happen. I just… need to stay away from Jack’s party, that guy could drink forever, so Ian told me to stay here, is this all right with you?” Alex is kinda babbling and facing away from me.

I try to take a good look at his face by handing him some drink, “Then why’re you so red, how much did you drink?” Jesus even his ears…

But it’s no use, he lays down on the side of the bed and pulls the sheet up. “I’m tired.”

Gah! That Franco guy must spike my baby brother’s drink, I’m sure! I need to make a trip to MarcVDS’s hospitality soon!

…it’s not that I haven’t been there even once because I’m afraid of that Franco guy being Valentino’s student!

I’m not!

.

.

…

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.

The resting weeks pass by slowly and painfully.

Slowly because all my time (besides training) spends on worrying about Alex. He use the phone a lot, not talking with anyone, just staring at social applications. He’s overly excite with he got a phone call but sadden when it’s not someone he’s expecting. He’s easy to read like that.

“You’re waiting for a certain phone call, who?” There’s no secret between us.

“N… No? I just… my friend…”

“Which friend?” Sad thing that we both know all friends we got.

“My team…” Somehow he looks uncomfortable to talk about this.

“Ok.” So I let it go.

There’s a moment when I sneak a look at his phone but can’t see clearly, only a blur of… colors.

Fluorescent yellow?

.

What…?

.

.

And I say that our weeks pass painfully because it got worse, not only a phone call but now, even a notification got him distracted.

“Hey, buddy… I think we should talk about this.” It pains me to see him so desperate. Whoever leave him hanging must be important.

“Marc… I… I don’t know how to tell you.” He shakes his head slowly, “Even I don’t understand it either. So can you wait?… When I…”

“It’s alright.” He can tell me when he think I can be any help. “But today you’re mine, leave your phone here and let’s go hiking, come on.”

“Ok.”

Because I’m nice and patient brother like that.

.

.

…

.

.

We arrive at GermanGP in kinda bad shape, actually not me, just my brother. He looks as though he hasn’t sleep for few days. Withdrawn and upset, very unlike him. I kinda scratch my head when his PR manager secretly ask me about this, but I’m clueless just the same.

“What about Alex’s teammate?” I meekly ask.

“Franco? What about him?”

“Is he… no, just forget it.” That guy is simply on top of my suspect list. “Is it worrisome? Should I come over?”

“Nah, just let me handle it. But if he complain later, don’t blame me!”

“…Ok.” They’re all nice people at MarcVDS… even though a bit weird sometime. I let them handle my little brother because I have to focus on my riding too. Lots of things to set up and adjust, I’ll talk to him again after the race.

…

Oh God. He crashes again.

Alex likes this track so …why? His mind is elsewhere, I think. Still worrying about someone on the phone?

Hmm his teammate crashes too, but not like I care.

I try to call him after my race but he doesn’t answer, now I start to worry. I’m going to his place so I open the door but there he is…

Perfectly fine with goofy smile on his face.

What? Why? He just crashed!

His smile falters a bit when he sees me but still considering ‘beaming from ear to ear’. To his right, there’s someone also in MarcVDS uniform just left.

“Who’s that?”

“Huh, oh nevermind. How’s your race?”

So, he didn’t watch his big brother’s race?

Great.

I win.

“Not really exciting…” I roll my eyes. “But can we talk about your miraculous mood swing now?”

Now he turns a bit redder. Oh… so this is romance thing? Whoa, OK. “Who’s the girl?” My eyes narrow.

His eyes widen, like he’s so surprise with the question, come on, brother. It’s so obvious like he got a neon sign on his head. “I em… Marc… can we do this later?”

“No, it has to be now.” I need to know which beauty got his attention. I need to know if she likes riding, hiking, wake boarding, skiing, traveling and all those dangerous sports we love. Or at least she has to be good at waiting.

“You’re not going to like this…” He gulps.

And…

Run off.

Just like that.

“Hey come back here you little shit!” I yell after he’s gone out the door. Damn it.

.

.

The break weeks this time is very different from the last. Alex still pay a lot of attention to the phone but with whole different attitude. Smiling and giggling and smiling and giggling and repeating. What’s so happy about being in a relationship? …It’s not like I’m not happy for him but …I would be happier if he let me in, too. Maybe all of us could hang out and have fun.

Well…

But he looks so happy now, I should leave him be for now because I don’t want him running off again.

.

.

The AustrianGP is fantastic! Again, not for me but for my baby brother. I can feel that he get zero pressure and end up in 6th place! This is the best one so far, I’m so happy for him. …Not that I care about his teammate got another podium, though. I just hope that Alex won’t put a pressure on himself by comparing his achievement with teammate.

…Come to think of it. Alex never complain about that at all. I’ve never hear him talk about Franco except when I directly ask.

That guy must be so bad that my baby brother wants nothing to do with. Which is good.

Because he is Valentino’s student.

…The less we hear about each other, the better.

Right?

.

Anyway, I’m waiting for my baby brother to come back and celebrates!

…But he never comes.

Only left a message to me that he’ll come back quite late and I shouldn’t have wait. What? Why?

I’m quite upset about this but …maybe he’s with that girl… so I decide to play it cool.

PLAY

IT

COOL

…but this is past midnight already! He should come back by now.

Oh great, he doesn’t answer the phone nor read the message. I try calling others about my brother’s where about but got nothing.

I think I’m going crazy.

I know it’s late but decide to take a scooter out to look around, maybe he’s on the way back but still loitering… but no. No one’s around in this dark yard of motorhome. They mostly pack up or stay inside.

Oh there’s one with light on; the Yamaha.

…Maybe, just maybe … if I happen to meet that Franco guy, I could ask if he see Alex.

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But I see someone else instead; someone I’m so terrify to meet more than necessary.

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Under the pale moonlight,

Soft blue eyes are looking right at me.

And I can’t breathe.

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I turn straight back to my motorhome, wishing my heartbeat would be anything less than chaos. My hands are still shaking when I close the door.

But hey, that’s my baby brother on the bed, finally! He must be back when I’m out, but thank God for this.

“Alex, hey.” I try to call him but looks like he’s out cold. By the smell, he’s not been drinking much but sleep so deep because of exhaustion? We’ll talk in the morning then.

BUT

WAIT

WHAT IS THIS?

Is it a …hickey?!

My baby brother disappear for 6 hours and came back with a hickey!

Oh my God…

With closer inspection, looks like someone’s been necking my baby brother… HARD!

Look at this… Both sides of neck, the back, the front, behind his ears, collarbones, chest…

And even LOWER!

.

Alex hasn’t told me about this girl because it isn’t official. Not official, my ass.

WHO THE HELL!?

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…

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A break between AustrianGP and CzechGP is so frustrating to me. After I see what happen with Alex, I choose to ignore it. I act like I haven’t seen all those evident of hunger that his partner left on him. I just act normal, play it cool, remember?

My little brother thought I haven’t seen anything, that high collar MarcVDS uniform help him cover all those red marks. I roll my eyes every time he try to use some scarf. TCH.

The only thing that calms me right now is that I finally know who’s responsible for his misguiding behavior.

THAT FRANCO GUY!

His PR manager told me that after the race, that Franco guy took Alex to God-Know-Where party! He must hook my Alex up with some vicious girl, this is his evil plan to bring down my baby brother, I’m sure!

I can’t wait to confront that guy at the next race!

.

.

And here at CzechGP, right after my team settle down I go straight to MarcVDS hospitality.

My brother hasn’t arrive but my target is. Good. I wait there until he’s alone and drag him by jacket sleeve to seclude corner nearby. “Be quiet and come with me.”

“…Marquez? What?” The Italian/Brazilian rider looks startled but finally comply.

I push his back against the wall and try my best to intimidate him, despite our height difference.

“How long has it been?!” When did his evil plan start, since the day he join this team?

“…What are you talking about?” He looks calmer than I thought, the shit has gut.

“About Alex! What else do you plan to do to him, huh? Aren’t you corrupting him enough? He keeps so many secrets these days and it’s because of you, right?!”

Franco can’t meet my eyes, is he feeling guilty now? “…What did he tell you?”

My brother don’t need to tell, his downhill result compare to last year is enough. This guy’s been distracting him with parties and alcohol and girls.

“That you’re a distraction.”

Now his expression darken a bit, I fully got his attention now?

“Whatever you’re doing to him need to stop. Don’t take him to anymore party. Don’t introduce him to anyone. Don’t even go near him.”

“…I’ve never want to harm him, you’re not being reasonable.”

I can’t believe this guy, how stubborn!

“He also told me that you’re meddling with his performance. He told me that you gain mechanics’ favor and use it to your advantage. Now the bikes suit your style better than him, am I right?”

“He consents to this…”

“He consents nothing! Alex could never oppose the advantage of the team, but you’re tying his hand here.”

“He’s never…”

“Stop. I warn you. Whatever you’re doing with him has to end now.” I point a finger to his face as a warning.

I don’t care who he is, and whoever backing him up anymore.

My baby brother is more important.

.

.

Yes, I know I’m right when this race deliver Alex’s best result this year, 5th. He’s in the best form and if he can keep it this way I’m going to be very happy. I want to hug him so bad, maybe I could buy him some surprise gift?

But he’s back to my motorhome with saddest face I’ve ever seen. Sadder than crashing or worst result. …I don’t understand.

“Why? Are you not happy? It’s your best position this year.”

“I do… Marc, I do.” He slowly shake his head. “…but he hates me now.” Alex mutters the last part but I hear it anyway.

What? “Who are you talking about?”

“No, no one. Just… forget what I said.” He even tries to fake a smile, why is he acting like this. Are we not being honest with each other anymore?

“Your teammate, what does he do this time?” I could only think of Franco, he might treats my brother differently now… but I don’t understand, why does that effect Alex this much?

“No, He doesn’t … do anything at all … and because of that, I…”

Damn, that fucker even makes my little brother shed a tear! “I shouldn’t have trust that guy! I told him to stay away from you! Why didn’t he listen?!”

“Marc… WHAT?!” He suddenly stands up. “Did you talk to him?”

“Yes, just before the race. You can’t have him leading you around!”

“He… doesn’t.” Alex takes a deep breath. His tone of voice suddenly change. “Marc… I need to talk to him.”

“Alex…?”

“Marc, please. I know you want the best for me but trust me on this.” His eyes shine with determination I’ve never seen before. “Franky is not the one who responsible for anything bad that happens to me.”

And he’s out the door.

Wait.

Franky?

Did he just call that guy by affectionate nickname??

What’s going here?!

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.

.

Maybe it’s something close to miracle happening here at BritishGP.

Silverstone circuit is famous for it’s raining nature. We are all expecting wet race but no… looking up at the sky right now, it’s so clear. One of fellow British riders mention once about warm, blue sky of this country but I’ve never have a chance to witness it until now.

All the faces in the paddock and all around looks surprised and happy about this.

The mood is high and smile everywhere.

…I don’t want to say that it kinda inspire me to go out …and visiting certain hospitality.

MarcVDS.

I know this is their Free Practicing time for my baby brother. To some person, entering pit box during this is forbidden, but MarcVDS is kinda my territory.

“Hey, Champ, coming to see Alex?” Their PR manager, Ian greets me and show me inside. By entering from the back, no one’s paying us attention, he’s about to let the team know my presence but I ask him not to.

There’s something I want to see.

It’s Alex doing some lap outside but his teammate still look at the monitor. After a while, that Franco guy calls Alex’s mechanic over and point something which he nod and assemble the others to change Alex’s second bike setting.

Dear God. Can he do that?

Meddling with my brother’s bike!

I’m about to complain but Ian assures me that’s all right, that Franco guy knows a lot about mechanic and setting.

Just like his teacher.

.

And Franco guy get up and start his own session. He’s out there, slaying statistics left and right.

Hard braking.

Curve sliding.

I must admit that his riding style is kinda… fascinating to watch.

Let’s say he’s a risk taker.

Another aspect that straightly derived from his teacher…

For some laps that I’ve been watching Franco, my brother happen to crashes in quite fast speed, and it’s a high-side God, hope he’s alright.

I haven’t even get a hand on the situation but then Franco pit back, dismount the bike and ask only for my baby brother…

who come in just a bit later.

“Are you hurting anywhere? Is your wrist alright? Should we go to the clinic?”

“Don’t worry, it feels fine.” Alex takes off the helmet and smile in assurance.

“It’s a high-side, let’s go and make sure. …I’m worry”

“…Ok. But I’ll go by myself. You should finish the practice.”

They both nod and go separate ways …right after exchanging THAT SUSPICIOUS LONGING eye contact.

What?!

I step out of Ian’s back, I don’t realize that I’ve been using his big frame as a cover. I point finger at what I’ve just seen.

“Are they friends?”

“Of course, they’re friends.” Ian chuckles.

“I mean just polite teammates or they’re on REALLY FRIENDLY term.” Because I’ve never do that to my teammate, ever! And that Franco just make my baby brother to go to clinic with just few words.

Even I can’t!

“I think this will answer your question, it’s very sweet.” This humorous PR manager is grinning when he pull the phone out to show me something.

A photo.

Of Franco and Alex.

Hugging in the middle of pit box.

Smiling bright at each other.

Eyes shining.

Hands fondling.

Forehead touching.

WHAT?!!

THIS IS NOT NORMAL.

THIS IS NOT FRIENDLY.

Wait.

Ok.

I GET IT.

I COMPLETELY GET IT NOW.

…The look on Franco face when I told him to stay away from Alex.

…The look on Alex face when he said he know what’s best for him.

.

Come to think of it, those hickeys on Alex’s neck didn’t come with lipstick.

…There’s never have any girl.

.

It was all Franco.

.

God Damn It.

.

Valentino’s ace student is corrupting my baby brother.

He know this, right?

He’s secretly gloating, right?

.

Just mark my word.

I will never allow this.

 

 

 

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Fin.

 

 

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(?)

 

 

 

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A/N : 2016 FM Silverstone Podium

 


	5. Aragon Ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vale POV

 

Title: Aragon Ace  
Fandom: GP  
Pairing: FMAM, VRMM  
Genre: RPS, ficlet  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
Note: ENG is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
Note2: this story comes after [Silverstone Sky]  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from official site

 

Vale POV

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‘If you know better, you’ll do better’

Maya Angelou

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The famous quote that should be apply to anyone, cannot use in any of my situation.

I already know better.

But I cannot make things better.

.

I know what I should do to get me what I want. I know when everyone expects me to do great things. I know that all the riders look up to me. And I know that I can be difficult sometimes.

But I can’t do anything better. Maybe you think that I just won’t.

Think whatever you like, I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. I live by my own rules. If someone got a problem with that, they can walk out and trust me when I say that I’ll never hold them back.

In fact, it happened several times in the past.

And it’s happening now.

.

.

In this 2016 mid-season, I’m resting with my students at the academy, they’re all my pride and joy. We train together, learn together and live together, at least on their part. Being paired up in dorms playing a big part in building strong relationship amongst kids. I know that it works when one kid start lying and the rest of them back him up, for the good cause, I mean.

So here is another case. Right now, one of them, Franco, is noticeably quiet and the rest of the kids all give me the same answer. They tell me that Franky got ‘some kind of relationship problem’.

Well, I have to considering this a lie.

Because Franky doesn’t have girlfriend.

.

Not that I know of.

.

Or he has one now?

When?

.

Nevermind, I think the heart-to-heart talk is in order. Grabbing some beers and head off to the fence where Franky is sitting alone, watching sunset over the ranch.

“Hey, kid, mind if I join?” I hand him a beer which is still ice cold.

He looks at the brand and sees that it’s from his team’s sponsor. They actually send us a lot and it’s against the law of humanity to deny good beers, even if it’s from an enemy.

“So what’s wrong with you these past weeks? Lori, Luca … In fact everyone is kinda worry.”

Franky pops a can and drink a large gulp before he answer.

“I fucked up.”

Hmm so this is really about relationship problem? Because he’s never act like this when it’s about racing, more calm, more collected.

So I let him talks,

“I could have just…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to explain it in the safest way.

.

“I kissed … No, not really a kiss, more like a peck on corner of the lips but …anyway. My mistake.”

I sigh in relief; here I thought it’s something very serious. “I’m a bit confuse, what’s a problem there? If you like someone, you go for it. Just like I teach you, yeah?”

“Right. And that’s why I’m in deep shit.”

I smile at this. “Don’t be so dramatic, if she likes you back then it’s good, yeah?”

“You don’t understand, there’re some complications; first, that person don’t like me back, one hundred percent sure. And second…”

“…go on.”

“Not a she.”

“…Oh.”

“…”

“…Ok.” It was just… unexpected, not strange.

“…”

“So that’s it? You like boy, you kissed him, and you don’t have any black eye or bruise? Doesn’t sound like a deep shit for me…” Because I don’t see any pr…

.

.

“But it’s Marquez.”

.

.

.

I don’t know why but my blood just runs cold all over.

“… What?”

What did he just say? Franky and Marc?

What the fuck!

“…Vale, listen, I’m sorry. I know you have every reason to be very very mad. From the look of this you’re about to kill me with your bare hands but…”

“BUT WHAT?” I don’t even know what he’s saying! How does this happen?

When?

.

…Why?

.

“…Did Marc kiss you back?” I just… need to know.

But his reaction looks like he just seen a ghost.

“No! Jesus, no. I was talking about Alex not Marc!”

.

OH

“My teammate, Alex Marquez, you know.”

.

Ok then.

.

…I shouldn’t feel a bit… relief, right? Nevermind, I need to focus on Franky.

“Okay… so what’s the problem now? Alex is… good, he’s a good kid.”

“It’s complicated. We’re just start talking not so long and suddenly I did that to him. He was so shocked, I couldn’t look at him again.”

“So you like… really really like him or it was just that moment that you just want to kiss him?”

“…Both, I think.”

Now this looks a bit serious… “And what’s next? You want to say sorry and tell him to forget it or…?”

“Or?”

“Going for it, of course.”

“…I don’t know. Is that even a choice? The fact that he’s Marquez is even more complicated.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter who he is, I mean, don’t put me and his brother in your equation, just do what you want. If you go for this, it means you can kiss him without worrying about the consequence, like you’re doing it now. Don’t you like that?”

He’s gone quiet for a moment and starts to smiles a little,

“…Yes. Yes, I’ll like that very much.”

.

.

…

.

.

To be honest, after Franky told me about his feeling for Alex, I start notice more things about them. I see that when my boy get more podium, Alex also looks very happy no matter what position he’s in, and he gradually improve.

Every week after race looks like Franky doesn’t want to go home. But his mood is a lot better, his practice time is even quicker. Maybe Alex is really a good motivation.

I bought Franky a motocross bike as a present for his achievement. He’s very happy because Alex just got new one from Marc, too.

Well.

I’m not sure which one of us buy them first, but I didn’t copy this idea for sure.

I’m at the ranch, browsing around the internet…

“Is that Marc’s Instagram?” Franky looks across my shoulder.

“No. Yes. No.”

“…”

Ok… “Yes it is, but he often update about his brother, you know?”

“I know.”

“Good.” Then stop looking at me like that. “How’s Alex?.”

“Good…” He answers with kinda weird smile I don’t want to analyze but whatever keep my kid happy, I’m all for it.

“Wait. What about …Marc, does he know about this?”

He sighs and shakes his head.

I just hope he takes it well…

.

.

…

.

.

AustrianGP this year is fantastic. Well, not so much for me but Franky. He had a tough start this year but thing’s getting better. So, to celebrate his podium I call for a party, a hotel nearby has a nice lounge and girls here are very, very nice.

I assume that all the kids know about Franky situation, because he personally ask if he could bring a teammate. Well, yes, of course it’s his party. But I tell the kids not to make Alex uncomfortable because sometimes teasing may get out of hands.

And here they are, Franky and Alex in the middle of our all-Italian academy party which is starting to get wild when they arrive. Bringing teammate along to celebrate has a lot of procedure, I guess.

There’s an a bit awkward introduction but it’s because we all know this certain Spaniard and he knows us well already but we laugh it off and start toasting instead.

As night goes on, I try watching them out of corner of my eyes because my attention would make Alex tense up. Yes it does, because he has to talk to me at some point. After Maro and Andrea make him drown 2 shots of tequila, he’s tiptoeing toward me.

“Ciao, Vale.”

I nod and smile. “I’m happy you’ve come. Because this means a lot. …well, to Franky.”

“Thanks, I’m kinda afraid you wouldn’t want me here.” Even with or without alcohol, he’s straight forward as always.

“Why not? If it’s about your brother, then it’s about your brother. Not you.”

He pulls a smile and that makes me understand a little … of why Franky’s so crazy about this kid.

…and this remind me of someone.

.

No.

.

This is stupid.

I continue drinking, a girl beside me start edging on my lap and I don’t really mind.

Anything that makes me forgets certain Spaniard.

Fuck.

Just fuck it.

My head start spinning and I got pair of key cards from Uc. I hand one to Franky because Alex looks like he need resting. All the kids ganging up against him, determine to get that poor kid as drunk as possible. I keep the other and head upstairs with my partner.

.

I take my time.

Forgetting.

.

But it doesn’t really help.

When half the night is done, I come back down. Most kids are pretty much trying to sober up because they know their limit. I see Franky trying to sneak Alex pass all of them. I shake my head and silently gesture them to meet me outside for the ride.

I take them back to the motorhome yard just after midnight. All the way, I try to sneak a look at them who sit (seperately) very still on the backseats.

Can’t say that I don’t see a hickey.

Or two.

Or three.

Whoa.

Kids these day.

I snicker a bit but don’t comment on any of those.

.

After sending them off, I walk around a bit to get some air before heading to bed.

My head still hasn’t… clear.

Not enough.

Alex’s brown eyes really remind me of someone and I…

.

There’s noise.

Scooter.

It’s very late now, who would…

.

.

Marquez.

.

He’s…

.

He turns back at the same moment that he sees me.

.

Fuck this.

.

.

…

.

.

The championship this year is very hard. The leader’s scores are almost impossible to catch up. I know that this year belongs to Marquez because his consistency is a lot better than the last. He’s calmer, cleverer and definitely more mature.

But in this Silverstone GP, it’s where something goes wrong.

I only have half an hour to congratulate Franky for another podium finish before all the hell break loose. Marquez is hungry for some blood, and the blood will be drawn.

I don’t know what has gotten into him this time, because suddenly he’s very agressive. Attacking me from all directions when we catch up. Countless attemps to overtake me but I hold strong, I don’t play other people’s game.

I’m not shaken by his moves but his determination.

How I long for such strong opponant.

Racing without enemy is boring. This keeps me alive.

He, keeps me alive.

And at the end of the day, he lost. I can’t say I win, but he definitely lost. Something goes wrong with him.

But it doesn’t concern me.

Right?

.

.

…

.

.

Until AragonGP, I haven’t paid much attention to anything other than racing. The second half of this season has been good to me, podium finish is always beautiful. My race today is tough for I finish 3rd place after Marquez and my teammate but nevermind, at least I have something more to happy about; Franky and Alex, they’re both on the podium. How nice is that since Alex hasn’t scored much point this year. I’m not sure if Franky has something to do with Alex’s progress but it doesn’t matter, I’m happy for both of them. And this also proves that they’re good for each other. Maybe I could arrange some private trip for them… let’s see what I can do.

But then, after the race, I have unexpected visitor waiting in my motorhome. Uc must have let him wait there because it would be weird if someone sees him outside.

Marquez.

Sitting on my sofa with guarded expression.

“Well?” I shrugg, I can’t possibly guess why he’s here. After that agressive move since Silverstone he hasn’t even say something, which means that it really was his intention to let out his frustration on me.

“You know about Alex and your student, right?”

Oh well, “He has a name you know.” I grab some towel for washing my face.

“You’re impossibly calm about this. So is this your plan?” He follows me to the washing area.

“What does that even mean?” I’m drying my face while watching his expression in the mirror.

“You’re going to use Alex to get to me somehow, right? Let your ace student corrupts my brother, this is low, even for you.”

.

What the fuck is going on in his head?

.

Is he accusing me? Because he’s still talking. “I just know this since Silverstone, but it has been going on long before that, right? I won’t have it. I won’t let Franco get any closer to Alex!”

.

Oh, is that why he attacked me like that? Is that how he takes personal frustration out on track with me.

Forget that I said he’s matured.

This kid is fucking impossible.

“Why?” I turn back to face him.

“Why not, he’s your student and Alex’s my brother!”

“So?”

“…” He bites his lips.

“Just because you’re not happy with …this.” My hand goes back and forth between us. “You’re making your brother suffer, too?”

Look at me, God damn it.

“You cannot stay aside and watch your brother smile?”

.

“Do you see your own brother’s face when Franky got a podium? Do you even see his progress? I just see that they’re good for each other, I don’t even think of you.”

He takes a step back.

“What are you thinking when you see them together? That I planned this? That I planned for your brother’s happiness and not you?”

.

“Who do you think you are, Marc Marquez?”

.

I look at him, same brown eyes that he used to look at me with admiration are gone now. Long gone. Right now he looks hurt.

It pleases me.

For a moment.

.

He looks heartbroken.

And somehow, I don’t know why I feel like that too.

.

“…You’re cruel”

he said.

.

Yes, he should know that by heart since last year.

.

Don’t ever come back.

Don’t think of us.

Don’t even think of me.

He had his chance all along, and he blew it last year.

.

We’re done.

.

When he chose to walk out from this, from whatever we had, trust me when I say that I’ll never hold anyone back.

And I’m keeping my word.

.

.

.

.

Fin.

.  
.  
.

(?)

 

 

A/N : 2016 FMAM Aragon podium.


	6. Motegi Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martinez POV

 

Title: Motegi Mist  
Fandom: GP  
Pairing: FMAM, VRMM (RosQuez)  
Genre: RPS, ficlet  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
Note: ENG is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
Note2: this story comes after [Aragon Ace]  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from official site

 

Martinez POV

.

.

 

.

.

.

 

 

 

 

Are we having a best day of the year?

 

Hell yes!

 

I can tell you that it’s the best feeling ever, to see your boy at the top of the podium but this is even more special when that boy also win the world title!

 

Man, my heart still beating like crazy! I almost forget to grab a t-shirt for our champ when I run out to the track, Alex has to throw it at me. We’re both running and screaming toward Marc. We both look like dogs on drug but who cares!

 

Even though the bike isn’t in the best condition but we know that the team own it this year; the strategy, the team and most importantly, the rider.

 

I’m so fucking proud of this boy!

 

The fact that this timing is unexpected is even more exciting. Who would think that two of his greatest rivals would fall down in this very same race? Lucky that we’re just preparing for his celebration for the last race ahead of time.

 

The press conferences and the party goes on and on since Japan is the home of most of our sponsors, we got hefty sum of pocket money both for the team and Marc, man, this is nice.

 

Three of us; Marc, Alex and I talked about this at the beginning of the season, of how nice if we would win over the two Yamaha champions again. Me and Alex were ecstatic but somehow Marc wasn’t all that exciting. I didn’t understand him back then but oh well, he doesn’t look that bother for beating anyone now, let alone his former-idol.

 

Yes, former.

 

He doesn’t let himself attach to that ‘Greatest of All Time’ rider anymore.

 

Or so I believe.

 

When you know someone well, you can read a bit of his facial expression if he’s lying or not.

 

I asked him once before CatalanGP about how he wants his situation between him and his idol to be this year.

 

‘It’s not up to me, isn’t it?’ Was his answer.

I asked him the same again after the press conference, it was the time that Rossi says he would shake hand with Marc now because it’s the right thing to do.

 

‘I don’t want this anymore.’ Was his new answer.

 

He meant that he was done looking up to that guy, I guess.

 

Nevermind, this is the time for celebration and there’s nothing more to do now besides having fun now are we?

 

.

 

.

 

In between moving from place to place, mostly I stick with Marc and now Alex is with us, too. He’s the nicest kid I know but too bad for this season that’s been up and down, today he crashed too but I don’t think he remember that because the happiness for his brother still shines bright on his face.

 

“What about your injuries?” I sit down at the corner of the interviewing room.

 

“Nothing serious, I’m used to it this year, not that I like, though.” He’s still trying to make joke, I snicker at his attempt.

 

“But your teammate is on fire.” I shrug, everyone’s been saying that for a while. For a guy who got five podium in eight races, that’s huge.

 

“…Yes, he’s good.” Alex mutters with a small smile on his lips.

 

Well, I don’t have to worry about him stressing himself over being compared to his teammate, then.

 

Actually, I do notice several things recently. Despite the fact that Alex and his teammate should be edgy around each other, it was other way around. Few times that I see Franco drop Alex off at Marc’s motorhome.

 

Some conversations between them that I can’t hear but it leave smile on Alex’s face.

 

That was nice. Alex’s nice kid, anyone would charmed by his personality, I’m sure. But there’s a moment that I’m not sure if the charm’s too strong…

 

I was worry about Alex’s crash in Germany so I follow him to the clinic, I didn’t realize that his teammate was crashed, too.

 

The door to clinic was slightly ajar so I didn’t knock. Strangely, there’s no doctor or nurse there, just two of them, sitting a bit too close to each other with Franco’s back facing me.

 

The wet suit were gone, racing suit slightly pull down. Alex’s face looks a bit feverish so I ask aloud if he’s alright.

 

Franco turned back and I see that his hand was holding Alex’s wrist.

 

“Massaging.” Alex said instantly as he follow my eyes. That explain because there’s no nurse here. The guy is from famous academy who’s trained by motocross a lot, surely he got some knowledge about lessening the pain.

 

Not that I really suspect anything back then but…

 

You know, Alex’s not just nice.

 

The boy is very nice and good-looking with charming personality, cute smile and bright eyes…

 

Let’s say I’m a bit worry that Franco guy would… you know… hit on Alex.

 

Not that something like this never happened before but I’m not getting there.

 

I’m a bit worry about this in Marc’s place because the whole Rossi-Marquez incident is not a small thing. I try spying on him too, you know.

 

Up until now, I know that Franco likes fettuccini because Alex send picture of his self-made dish to him. Franco likes Star Trek since Alex was chatting with the guy about Zachery Quinto. Franco obviously like kids because the guy has been video-call with Alex and Marc’s nephew several times, judging from bright laughs, apparently our nephew likes the guy too. Amongst other things, he likes cycling, motocross, swimming, basketball, wake board, skiing, hiking… it’s a bit funny that all those extreme sport Marquez brothers do, he’s also does. So I kinda understand why there’s so many things that they would be able to talk about.

 

Moreover, just before Japan, Marc is a bit off. He’s a bit quiet… I’m not sure since when… Silverstone? He has something on his mind, I can tell, but don’t know what it’s about. Alex has no idea, too. And that left Alex with no one to play around with. We’re very close but not as close as brothers so I cannot replace him in this moment. And plus, Alex looks happier nowadays so I let him do what he likes.

 

If that would mean for him to becomes best buddy with his teammate.

 

“Tell me about Morbidelli.” I ask while we’re waiting around. After Marc become a champion, the PR team takes over my usual duty. It’s Hector’s job now to drag Marc around.

 

“…What do you want to know?” Alex’s playing with food now, even they’re those fancy sushi that he loves.

 

“His personality?” The guy must be friendly.

 

“He’s kinda quiet.” Oh?

 

.

 

“Calm.”

 

.

 

“A bit playful…”

 

.

 

“And he’s so caring and …very very kind.”

 

I don’t know, are we talking about the same Franco Morbidelli? That guy is a wild beast on track, just look at the way he pick up Luthi or went neck to neck with Lowes!

 

And why Alex’s looks bit dreamy when talking about this guy…

 

.

 

Shit

 

SHIT

 

SHITTTT

 

Does he…?!

 

.

 

…Nah, I don’t think so, that Brazilian/Italian guy isn’t all that handsome, you know.

 

Even I am better-looking.

 

Alex’s a good kid, when he likes someone he really likes them (as a friend, mind you). So I’m not worry about Alex hitting on that Franco guy, must be on friendly term.

 

It’s the other way around that I need to prove.

 

Can’t have another Marquez suffers from Italian schemes, you know.

 

.

 

.

 

The next morning, I drop by Japanese hotel that all MarcVDS team is here to see if Alex want to walk around the town with me for the last day, because his team are going back tonight but I’ll stay behind with Marc.

 

When I arrive at the lobby, I’m not sure if it’s my instinct that make me sidestep to take cover behind vending machine instantly as I see Alex.

 

Because he’s not alone.

 

He’s with that Franco guy, walking side by side …just the two of them.

 

Until they’re out the door then then I decide if I should follow? But well, I have nothing else to do anyway.

 

They walk.

 

Just walk together under Japanese sunlight.

 

Shoulder touching occasionally.

 

Stopping to buy some souvenirs.

 

Tasting Japanese sweet.

 

Smile together at …nothing.

 

.

 

Well, I have to admit that this is kinda… sweet.

 

As a TEAMMATE, you know.

 

Never in my career that I experience something like this. As anyone know, your teammate is your first enemy because they have the same equipment and supports. So basically, close friendship is quite rare.

 

But from the look of this…

 

It’s hard to tell… They look just like a close friends… more than ANYTHING ELSE.

 

I hope.

 

Lunch is fancy, they’re inside local sushi place that I suspect Alex was the one picking.

 

Me?

 

I’m buying some weird rice ball and fake melon juice from minimart, thank you. Can’t let them off my sight, you know.

 

I wait around after shooing off aunties who try to make me go away in her language. And there they are, looking even better smiling, apparently satisfy with the food. I’m suspecting that Franco guy is spoiling Alex… but anyway, we love spoiling him too, so no complain here.

 

I can’t help but taking some photos, you know. Not because I would like to use them for future blackmailing, it just… they’re cute.

 

So fucking cute together, and I’m killing myself for admitting this. You should have seen the way Franco looks at Alex and the vice versa.

 

Damn.

 

If I don’t know better I’d think that they’re…

 

…going out.

 

.

 

.

 

WAIT

 

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?

 

.

 

THEY KISSED?

 

It was…

 

Just a small one but that was definitely a kiss!

 

They’re in the seclude corner yes, but…

 

Oh My God.

 

…And it’s Alex who started it.

 

.

 

Marc’s going to kill him, them, both of them.

 

No, he’s going to kill me first.

 

.

 

What should I do?!

 

.

 

I think I have to sit down a bit so I call a cab, no matter how expensive it is. I don’t need to follow them anymore. I have enough proof.

 

Oh my God. I’m still shocking.

 

.

 

Oh my God.

 

.

 

I slap my face a little before going in Marc’s hotel room. I need to collect my jaw that’s still somewhere on the ground.

 

“Hi.” I say after he comes out of the bathroom, still fresh from taking shower. He just come back from the press/sponsors duties then. Thank God I don’t need to tag along, these things’ boring as shit.

 

He nods in return, somehow he doesn’t looks like new world champion… just …teenager with broken heart.

 

I don’t know… Should I tell him about Alex? If I tell him now he’ll be even more miserable but if I don’t… will he feel betrayed? By both Alex and I.

 

I’m biting my lips now…

 

Until I see that Marc’s looking at his phone, his face is even more fallen. I take out mine and see that Yamaha duo is now in the same hotel as us. Probably on the same floor because this is the top one.

 

I hear some noise, trolley, so I walk to the door and open it a little… yes, bright yellow cap army, no mistaken then.

 

Looking back at Marc, his face is asking all the questions; one of them is whether or not Valentino Rossi is out there.

 

I nod.

 

And Marc’s eyes light up like he really, really want to go out.

 

Suddenly I think about the question yesterday, that are we having a best day of the year?

 

We were.

 

But he’s not.

 

Despite the fact that it’s him who give us that hard earned trophy but there’s something (or someone) holding his happiness back.

 

And that person is just beyond this door.

 

.

 

I can’t bare seeing his face like this. I shake my head and go out, Vale’s door is clear up now when his teams are all inside the designate rooms.

 

Taking a deep breath before knocking.

 

For a moment before his assistant open in, his face is a bit deepen upon seeing me. “It’s Martinez.” He tells the room owner.

 

“Can I come in?” Better safe than sorry.

 

He nods because there’s no good for all of us if I’m seen in front of nine-time world champion’s room.

 

Valentino Rossi looks better than the last time I see him in private. His eyes are so intense I can’t really stare directly. Enemy or not, his presence is too intimidating.

 

“Is it ok if ‘he’ comes here… I mean… I … He isn’t asking for this but… It’s me asking, not him.” It’s so embarrassing that I’m stammered.

 

“Why?” Uccio asks that small question, we all know the answer.

 

So I say nothing.

 

There’s no use begging.

 

This is the only person in the world that can hurt Marc Marquez just by ignoring him.

 

He says nothing.

 

But the tension is so intense I really fear for the answer.

 

Then he looks at me and after a longest minute of desperation … he nod once… only tiny nod that anyone would have miss. But his famous assistant accept that and hand me a Yamaha cap…

 

.

 

Just like old days, eh?

 

I sigh with huge relieve and go back to Marc’s room.

 

He’s waiting for me, he knows what I just did.

 

I hand him a cap.

 

Trust me, he’s close to tear when he sees it. His eyes shine brighter than the time when he’s receiving world champion’s trophy.

 

This is bad.

 

This boy cannot let go of his obsession to that man until the end…

 

All I can do is tell him the room number and give him my hoodie.

 

I peek through the door to make sure Marc safely get in the room and just for a moment, Uccio comes out.

 

He looks a bit troubled but that’s a reflection of my expression, too.

 

Well, nothing can be done now.

 

Everything is up to them.

 

I sigh heavily when laying down on the bed.

 

.

 

Marc is now officially back in the palm of Vale’s hand.

 

Alex falls deep in Morbidelli’s trap.

 

.

 

My job description shouldn’t include looking over Marquez brothers’ affair with Italians, you know!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fin.

 

 

 

 

.  
.  
.

(?)

 

 

A/N : 2016 FM Motegi podium.


	7. Island Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uccio POV

** **

 

**Title:** Island Breeze  
 **Fandom:**  GP  
 **Pairing:**  VRMM (RosQuez), FMAM  
 **Genre:** RPS, ficlet  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Warning: Boy / Boy** , if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
 **Note:** ENG  is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
 **Note2:** this story comes after [Motegi Mist]  
 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from [official site](http://motogp.com/)

 

Uccio POV

 

 

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.

 

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I have the toughest job in the world.

And that was an understatement.

Being assistant means you have to know every details of your boss’ requirements. You have to prepare everything beforehand. You have to think twice on everything that would come in contact of your master. You have to read things between the lines of certain emotions.

And you need to put your boss’s feeling first.

Even it means allowing him to hurt himself in the process.

.

Valentino Rossi is my friend, my family and also my boss.

Ones can’t imagine how deep our connections are. I don’t care how everyone looks at me, think of me or talking behind my back. Everything about him comes first. I trade my life for him to be here and he trades his for mine. We exist because of each other.

Without him, I would be someone in desert hometown, fixing machine or farming peacefully. Without me, he would break down from this stressful life of racing long time ago.

Trust me when I say that he could break.

He did, once or twice. And both times were very ugly.

 

.

 

Years after years, I’m becoming very good at separating things that he like and things that he doesn’t; foods, weather, clothes, circuits, countries, girls, and …boys.

If he likes something, he’ll look at it twice and that’s my cue to do anything to get it. Some examples are that yellow Ferrari, his ex-girlfriend, the ranch and so on.

Sometimes he’ll say that he doesn’t want it.

Sometimes he means it.

Sometimes he lies.

.

Told you, I have the toughest job in the world.

.

Sometimes he’d thank me if I get the answer right but it doesn’t matter. I just want him to be happy because he means so much not just for me… for, like, a million of his fans out there, the company, the mechanics, the team, the race, the young riders, the hometown and the people.

He has to be reminded occasionally that his presence is larger than life because he doesn’t really care about that. He sees himself as a kid who do whatever he like. He won’t be responsible for anyone’s feeling; joy or sadness. Some fans cry or break down just because he walk pass but really, he prefer fans that just say hi and ask for autograph or photos when times deem appropriate.

He just want to be a person, a racer, not a God.

Every years there’re kids and young riders who come in his presence, not many that he remember.

But there’s one that he looks twice.

I remember that boy, Spanish kid who came in the garage, eyes shone the brightest in Vale’s embrace.

And Vale watched until the kid was out of sight.

I took note of the kid’s name.

Time passed from then and we’re still here, we’re still racing and competitive. And that name raised again.

Marc Marquez.

From Moto3, Moto2 and finally here in MotoGP.

The kid came in our garage this time not as a fan, he become an enemy.

But those eyes still shone so admirably, saying all these years he spent climbing up here, to stand as an equal as his God.

Normally, Vale hated those speech.

But he loved it that day.

… I couldn’t tell how much he like the boy. Vale looks more than twice but I didn’t approach him.

Vale didn’t ask but he looks a bit disappointed.

At that time, I decided that it’ll be better if things remain like that so I just pretended that I didn’t see his signs because the kid breathe the air of danger.

I put Vale’s racing career first.

In a word, it was mine, too.

.

I chose what’s best for him and my decision was right.

For a year.

Until he directly asked, “You don’t like Marc?” We watched some race replay and the camera caught that kid looking at Vale… with such longing. It pains me just by looking.

“It’s not important if I like him, isn’t it?” I shrugged because it’s no use denying then.

“No, it does. If you don’t like him then I won’t.”

He lied.

Vale wanted the kid just as much.

And that kid’s number was in Vale’s speed dial the next day. What happen after that wasn’t my doing anymore.

I put himself before his feeling and it’s the wrong move, I learnt it that day.

Within few hours, Marc was in our hotel room.

I pulled a dry smile, “Call me if you guys need anything.”

Part of it might be my fault… longing makes hearts grow fonder. If they met sooner, things might die down already. But years of just looking without any touch make feeling more intense. Like hunger that was never been fed.

Desiring your own enemy is the most dangerous thing.

I tried to prevent this disaster but it was all in vain.

The next year they become inseparable, even the media found this endearing for them to be this close. He took Marc to the ranch, the kid from enemy factory, to his own home.

Vale taught him how to think, all those tricks that some of them hasn’t even been passed down to his own students. Marc made him a whole new person, better, kinder, more approachable.

That year was glorious.

.

Until the time ran out.

.

Until Vale found out that the kid was betraying him.

He was broken in hundred pieces.

Thanks God no one’s there to see it but me.

How he lost it all.

How he cursed himself.

How he cried.

.

Was it also my fault that I allow him to get too close to the kid? Was it me who cannot prevent this?

Because I know his preference.

…And Marc is everything he like.

Since the moment they met, they’re become the death of each other.

I didn’t know how Marc was coping with this bad blow but Vale was in really bad shape.

His family or even girlfriend could not console him.

I could only watch him wasted away, weeks, months until the worst moment passed.

It passed because I had to say that Marc got someone else now, that the boy was using him all along.

That moment was quiet…

It chilled me to see how much that boy effect my friend.

Because it looked like he was still waiting for the kid to come back and break him again… until I said that it was impossible any longer.

.

I fixed him from that moment.

I savaged what was left as a person.

And it’s only a year passed and then that kid want to come back again.

The fuck was that.

As soon as I saw Martinez in front of our hotel door in Japan, I almost punched the living shit out of that guy. Because his presence meant everything; that the wheel of bad luck is turning backward again.

I couldn’t say how hard for me to accept that Vale is giving the kid a second chance. The boy does nothing to deserve it.

But Vale needs it.

No matter how strong he looks from outside, he still hurt every time the kid passed by.

He lied every time that it was alright.

.

When he gave Martinez a nod, does it means he’s ready to hurt again? I didn’t know but I would accept his judgment. No matter what choice I choose for him, he’ll hurt anyway.

He’s in pain, with or without Marc.

I could see that… when Marc came in the room, he just faced the ground. The kid stayed still that way and Vale just looked at him.

Face voided of all the emotions… result of a year of practicing.

For a long while, finally Vale said “Come here.”

Marc just walked slowly… but firmly to stand in front of his God… until his face buried deep in the side of Vale’s neck.

They both breathed in the reality.

I left them at that.

 

.

.

 

After Japan, we are now flying to Australia. My job becomes complicated again because I have to work with that Martinez guy to cover Vale and Marc’s track, just like we did before.

I hate that guy but he’s good at lying. I can’t even tell if he’s telling the truth when he was on the phone with Marc’s dad. Often that we use Marc’s younger brother as an excuse to go out. Lucky that Alex is now often need to disappear, I’m not sure why but Martinez said it’s ok.

Alex is also a teenager, I can understand that.

I like it here at Philip Island, because most of us rent whole separate houses instead of hotels, easier to escape the journo, though.

I get a whole big house for Vale, too. I use one room in the farthest corner to give him some privacy. Marc will practically live here for 3 whole days before the press duties start for the race.

Yes, I know that I shouldn’t hang around so I decide to go somewhere else.

MarcVDS group isn’t far from here, so I think I’ll drop by to see one of our academy kid, Franco.

.

.

I knock at the team’s house and ask if he’s inside. Ian, their PR manager is a fun and easy-going guy who point me to Franky’s room on second floor.

.

Which I realize that I also shouldn’t be here.

It’s Franky room, yes.

But he shares with his teammate, Alex Marquez.

.

It’s not only the room that they shares, I guess.

Because they’re shirtless.

Together.

Quite intimately.

.

Ok.

.

I’m…

Speechless.

.

If I run downstairs and scream it’ll cause a scene, right?

So, I just use the same method I always do when encounter Vale and random counterparts; nod quietly, step in, and close the door.

.

Closing my eyes and sit down on the sofa, facing away from them. “You guys go on, I’ll just …be here … for a while, you know, I need a moment.”

“Uc, I’m not… We’re not…” It’s my kid who recover first, great. So this is the reason of Alex’s disappearance; our Franky?

I wave a hand, signaling them that it’s no use denying. “It’s ok, I’m not here to judge.”

And it’s Alex who takes it better, “Hi.” He’s wearing a T-shirt now, even it’s our academy one.

“Sorry for barging in, your PR didn’t warn me. Does he know?”

Alex just shrugs, “He said it’s good for teammate to be friendly toward each other.”

“I believe he didn’t expect this.” I mutter but turn around to sit normally. “I just need a place to crash, but I’ll go fine Maro now.”

Franco raises an eyebrow. “Oh.” He must guess that Vale’s room is occupied but…

“Don’t tell me it’s Marc?” Alex suddenly looks worried.

“I don’t know, why do you think it’s your brother?” I’m testing the water here, this kid might know something. “Vale could have pick anyone.”

He pulls a dry laugh. “But Marc cannot. He disappears and Vale’s room is occupied, so…”

…Hmm. “How well do you know your brother?” Now I pour myself a glass of water.

“As well as you know your friend.” Alex sits up against the bed’s headboard quite comfortably despite the fact that he have two Italians that would worry even Alzamora in closed space. “Compassion is not Vale’s word, I’m sure.”

Franco raises an eyebrow in a bit comical way as his boy talk back to me. Maybe he doesn’t know the boy too well? He may looks sweet and calm but really, the boy is head-strong type with straight forward words. He made even our most aggressive friend rethink of his action when trying to pick a fight at Marc’s garage in Sepang last year.

“Watch your language, kid.” Here I’m wondering how Franco win this boy’s favor. “You have no idea how much damage Marc caused him.”

Alex sits up now and his expression darken. “And what about Marc, Do you know what kind of scars Vale left on him? It’s not physical ones but maybe those were better.” By this point Franky has to hold him down, fearing that the boy would launch himself at me. “My family almost thought we lost him, it was real bad! So don’t blame it all on my brother when your friend was equally at fault!”

“Hey… shhh…” I was Franky who holds the boy close now… I think I see some tears welling at those eyes. And by the look of this, Franky almost hate me for it. “I’m sorry for this, Alex… please calm down.”

I raise my hand, “We shouldn’t talk about this.” Because the main objects of this argument are together right now, making up already, so there’s no use digging up the past. “I’m going out.”

“Vale is Marc’s everything.” Alex’s still talking. “You should have seen it, how cold Vale was to shut Marc out. Everyone blamed and threatened my brother and he did nothing. We never know what happened, no one. Just them.”

If it’s the truth the boy must mean no harm now…

It must be real hard situation back then. I heard from trusted sources that Marc took it bad. I don’t know much about him but all I’ve seen from when Vale and Marc are together, they’re at their best.

And when they’re separated, they’re worst.

Maybe that’s enough.

“So we’ll let them talk and we’ll trust their decision, alright?” I’m about to say that but Franky beats me to it. Kissing the boy’s temple in the process.

Eww.

Okay.

It’s my cue to leave.

“So where’re you staying tonight?” Not sure if Franky asks out of real concern but…

“I’ll go find Martinez, me and him are going to need a lot of preparation for various compromising scenarios in the future.”

Like it or not, I have to suck it up and work with that guy.

Because when I say that I’m doing this toughest job in the world…

I’m not the only one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fin.

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

.

 

.

(?)

 

 

A/N : 2016 FM Philips Island podium.


	8. Malaysian Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2016 FM Sepang podium.

** **

 

**Title:** Malaysian Madness  
 **Fandom:**  GP  
 **Pairing:**  FMAM, VRMM (RosQuez),  
 **Genre:** RPS, ficlet  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Warning: Boy / Boy** , if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
 **Note:** ENG  is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
 **Note2:** this story comes after [Island Breeze]  
 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but plot and writing. photo from [official site](http://motogp.com/)

 

**Migno POV**

.

.

 

.

.

.

 

Ok.Let’s do this.

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.

‘Dear Diary’

To be honest I don’t know where to start. This is the first time I’m doing this shit. Should I start by date? Nah, I don’t know exactly when it start so I just write as I remember.

My name is Andrea, and I’m writing about my friend; Franky, whom I know for the long time. We both are in the same academy, a special place that we are very proud to be a part of…

.

…Ah boring stuff.

Let’s skip to why I had to write this down instead of talking face-to-face.

Our Academy got a bit bigger now. We have, like, 10 students: all boys. Someday we train, someday we play, someday we chase after girls. Those are our habits for over a year, so it’s got to surprise you somehow that suddenly your best friend just came to you and confess that he’s having a certain, strong feeling towards a boy.

That moment I just pray that he didn’t mean one of us because it will be very…

Ew.

So when I found out who he meant, it kinda bit better, just a tiny bit. Very tiny. Because he was talking about Alex Marquez, the younger brother of our teacher’s enemy.

Very complicated, huh?

But taking a closer look, I kind understand a little bit because, you know, that guy is very pleasant to look at, very pretty, very nice and in the same time very famous.

This screams trouble.

I asked him if he was certain that it’s not just a little crush because… damn it, if I was Alex’s teammate I might have a crush on that guy too. So, I continued asking Frankie about what he like about Alex, and I had to stop him because it was like he was describing an angel from Raphael’s paintings… so kind at heart, so innocent, so pure.

I was about to puke from my friend’s cheesiness. Ew.

When my friend got first podium in Moto2 class this year, we threw a party for him. By that time, all of us know about his affection toward the boy, our teacher included. And he was brave enough to invite Alex to be amongst us. Or maybe I could say that Alex was the brave one. Come on, we, the academy boys must look like a gang of bad guys, but still he chose to be here.

He must like Franky a lot, too.

And maybe that’s a good sign.

Do you know how hard to stop our friend to tease poor Alex non-stop, about him being Spanish, about him being Marc’s brother and also how unbelievable that he was giving Franky a chance. But the guy just took it lightly, laughing along with us, and that make me start to like him.

It was brilliant for him to blend in so well.

Because, you know, it wasn’t like our teacher has always been Marc’s enemy

It was the opposite.

I still remember that time when Marc was invited to our Academy, our teacher, Vale was treating him like one of his girlfriend.

I wasn’t kidding.

Their hands are never on their own body… they’re both so touchy… Marc was the worst, that guy was carving so much attention from Vale.

And I got no problem with that.

Turn out that two of my beloved persons got very intimate with both of Marquez Brothers.

Very complicated, yes?

It will be easy if Vale and Marc are still so close, Franky and Alex would have no problem seeing each other.

After that famous betrayal, that Sepang incident, things were never be the same. But from the look of this, I think Valentino was rational enough about this situation. That party night, he showed us that he was ready to put anything behind just for Franky’s happiness. And I’m grateful for that.

Can’t have my best friend pinning after his own teammate with sad puppy eyes any longer.

A bit disturbing to look at, I admit.

That night they got a room for their own for two hours. I can’t imagine what they did in there and I don’t think I want to either.

But we made a bet, yes.

I won.

Because I check that the condom box in the room hadn’t been touch.

…or maybe I lost be we can’t find any proof. So I won. Yea.

.

.

After that, it was acceptable when we see Franky smile at a cloud, a can of beer or even a duck.

That included disappearing for hours with a phone or using video call all the time. Long distance relationship was tough but he manages it well.

Even though it’s not a fairy tale because sometime they fight, sometime they angry at each other, sometime they’re so sweet and sometimes they are so …envious.

Yes I admit that there’s some point, I envy them.

Franky know what he wants and he chased after it. He was lucky enough that Alex reciprocate his feeling. Otherwise it’ll be very uncomfortable situation in the garage. And for Alex, it’s good that he started to gain confident back for his racing career. I’m not saying that Franky was the reason but it may be part of it, they’re on the same bike and they’re helping each other in right direction.

Everything is good for them, no?

.

… but not for me.

.

I kinda… miss Franky, you know.

We use to hang out all the time but it changed when he met Alex.

.

Told you, I can’t say this to his face so I resort to writing this shit down.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want them to break up or anything. Trust me, my best friend isn’t the best looking guy in the academy but he could get a bit worse when he’s sad.

Looking back amongst our friends, only me and him that hasn’t got an actual girlfriend, now he got himself a boyfriend, leaving me as the only single one. How sad is that?

It wasn’t like I don’t have anyone but sometime girls are too complicated for me and I still want to spend most of my time with him… but turned out, he don’t have the same idea. It hurt a bit. Just a little bit.

.

Anyway, there’s no use being selfish about it. My best friend is in cloud nine and that should be enough.

And tomorrow we’ll have to fly over to Malaysia, it’s time to leave this fantastic island behind.

.

‘With Love,

Andrea.’

.

.

“What were you doing so late last night?” Lori, my teammate and also roommate ask on the breakfast table.

“Er… Nothing, just …some stuffs. Sorry if I wake you, mate.” I take a carton of milk from Nicolo. “You guys finish packing?” I asks to all our team who share a rent house with us during AustralianGP. They all nod and I hurry up to do the last minute packing upstairs. I frown when I see that ‘the diary’ that I’ve been writing last night was on top of the pile of clothing. Did I left it there? I shrug and stuff it at the bottom of the case. By ‘the diary’ I mean the palm-size notebook with the tsum tsum Disney characters on the cover.

We move to the airport which many of the riders and mechanics are waiting to get on board. It’s kinda funny how many persons on the plane that we can name. If the steward is looking for someone specifically, we all could point at them in a heartbeat. And there they are, the luxurious MarcVDS team. It’s cute when I know that even their mechanics got business seats. No surprise that their riders got first class sometime. I spot Franky and walk up to him.

“Heyyy, congrats for your second place again. How many time has it been?” I tease. Seriously, this year Franky is doing super fine comparing to only one third place last year.

He laughs lightly and give me a hug. It was casual… REALLY casual that his arm would rest on my shoulder because of …you know, height difference.

But yeah… there he is, Alex Marquez just out of the restroom and walk up to us. “Hi.” He greets. I nod and smile back. Damn he’s so tall. Even taller than Franky. “Which flight are you guys taking?” I ask.

Alex hold up the tickets, his and Franky, for me. Same flight as mine.

But first class.

Yea.

I literally hide my economy class ticket.

Life is so unfair.

“What about your injury, will you be okay to race at Sepang?” Because Alex had to be lifted by helicopter to check at the hospital, even though he looks relatively fine now but I can’t help but worry.

“Right now it’s not so bad but we’ll wait for the doctor’s test again next week, thanks for asking.” Shit, and this has to be the time when I remember all the praises my friend talk about Alex’s beautiful deer-like eyes.

“Don’t overdo it.” Franky says to his boyfriend with real concern, oh this is why he looks a bit down, worrying about Alex?

Aw man.

And why I’m blushing a bit here. Damn it.

“What about you? You had a big crash in the race.” Alex actually asks me about it and Franky looks like he just realize that I did crash. Great. Mate.

“Ah, just bad luck, you know how easy it is to lose the front or even hit by someone else’s bike.” Er… yes and I kinda forget that I’m talking to former Moto3 World Champion.

This is embarrassing. And I’m seriously blushing now.

I shrug Franky’s arm off my shoulder. “I should get going, Nicolo would eat all the snacks even before they take off.”

“See you, then.” Alex waves me off with a smile.

Damn.

Such a nice guy.

He makes me feel a bit guilty that I blame him for taking up all my best friend’s time.

When I catch up with my group, I glance back at them. Franky is adjusting Alex’s scarf.

Aw.

.

.

From Australia to Malaysia, the most difficult thing is the weather. How can your body adjust from 10 degrees to 33 within few hours? You can’t. It’ll take a lot of healthcare, fitness and proper diet to survive and ready for racing.

Again, our SKY group meet MarcVDS for luggage claim. This time Nicolo and Lori join the fun. They both still kids and sometime don’t know when to shut their mouths.

“Hi there, which hotel where your teams are staying?” Nicolo, the most bratty one amongst us asks. Turns out that we all got the same hotel. Different floor, of course.

“Three of us would be stuffed in the same room as always, but you guys will get a big suite all to yourself, huh? I bet Franky would happily pay for that.” Sometime I wonder if the number 8 on his bike is actually his age.

I’m face-palming myself to the floor right now.

But Alex just laughs. “Yes, and you guys can come up and hang out. He’s not paying for the room but you can make him pay for the bars.”

Franky’s eyes widen “Don’t get them any ideas.”

“Oh, and what if we pass out on your bed?” Lori, please just shut up.

“And we’ll switch room. You guys got 3 beds, right, Andrea?” Shit. Alex just winks at me.

This is fucking embarrassing, where’s Vale when we need him?!

.

.

To answer that earlier question of where’s Vale.

I could tell you something’s a bit off. First, Malaysia is a very hot country so every time we come here, we, all the academy student and staffs will always meet up on Wednesday night to have a big dinner of the year, poolside party with lots of BBQ, a bit of booze and numbers of girls. This year also, we’re kinda expecting it. Yes, we do throw a party but the host tonight isn’t Vale, but Uccio. Whatever Vale’s doing must be important enough to diss our big annual party but anyway…

At first, I’m not sure if this has to do with Marc Marquez’s disappearance? But it was confirmed on Friday morning when Marc are absent for the FP1 due to his stomachache.

Hmm.

Where can that World Champion eat anything strange when he spend all his time at my teacher’s side.

Like teacher, like student, no?

Because Franky and Alex almost never leave their room either.

Oh yes, but we got to hang out with their suite alright, on this Friday night, with ALL  of our academy students. I don’t want to see the bill for bars and room services but Alex says it’s fine.

Man, I like the guy even more.

Because even now that he has to help me putting these drunken idiots to their respective rooms, a smile never leaves his face.

How come he’s this nice, it’s impossible.

And yea. I’m so drunk; too, I did ask him out loud on the way back from Forward Racing room, which is the last one.

“I don’t know if you notice, but I don’t have many friends.”

Is this the real Alex Marquez, the world champion, and he has no friend?

“I do have friends but not the same age. So tonight is very fun, I’m really happy that you guys don’t hate me because of… Marc.”

I wave my hand. It’s a long story and Vale already accept Alex. There’s no reason at all for us not to be friend. But somehow, I suspect that he hasn’t got this latest update about Marc and Vale? …I mean, I think that they already make out… No, I mean, MAKE UP.

Anyway, it’s not my story to tell. My only evidence is that I accidentally saw Vale scrolling down his camera roll and caught that big funny face of Marc, a picture that I can’t find anywhere on social network… a private photo, then. He wouldn’t have that if they’re still mad at each other, I guess.

We’re on the way up to Alex’s suite but Franky just text him, “Looks like we don’t have to go upstairs tonight.” He snickers.

“Why?”

“Not sure if Lorenzo or Nicolo just threw up on the bed, they’re both passed out. Franky ask if we can stay in your room instead.” Alex really looks a bit amused right now…

…and how can I say no.

So I can’t help but nod.

Fuck.

My room tonight is like a smallest and most dingy place ever on the calendar. How can I let this Moto3 World Champion in …there.

Oh Franky is already waiting in front of the room.

“Not my fault we have to be here, you know.” Franky shrugs.

Yes, it’s like I brought this upon myself, the more I want to place myself away from my best friend’s love life, the more I get involved. And there’s no other situation in the world would be more involved than this.

_‘…Is he asleep?’_

That was Alex’s soft whisper from the far side of the bed.

Yes, the bed.

Because the room is so small, when they got an extra bed in here, they got to line all the beds up together. So literally, three of us are on one big bed with Franky in the middle.

I’m on the edge of the right one and I can fall off any minute, if I get any sleep at all.

.

_‘I’m not sure but he’s so still.’_

.

Franky voice comes after some friction on the sheet and I’ll be dead if I turn back around to face them. Because both Alex and Franky’s shirts are on the floor, I’m not sure if their boxers are as well.

.

_‘I think he is… we can do this now…’_

.

WHat… are they going to…. arggg. Why are they tormenting me like this?!

.

_‘Careful… or he’ll wake up.’_

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I WANT TO CRY.

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_‘It’s ok… I don’t think he’ll mind.’_

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I DO MIND VERY MUCH THANK YOU. Just Let me get out of here!

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_‘…mmm. Is this really ok with you…?’_

.

I can sleep in the Nicolo’s puke filled room now if I have to!

.

I just make up my mind to get up but then there’s a careful touch on my middle.

.

_‘Andrea gets cold easily so move him over here.’_

.

Wha…?

.

_‘He’s worse than me?’_ Alex asks.

.

They’re moving me to the other side of bed, which is a lot warmer. Stupid air con in cheap room can’t be adjusted.

.

_‘Yeah, a lot worse. He has to sleep where the air con don’t fall directly on, with hoodies and socks and everything.’_

.

…Somehow I’m touched that Franky still remember.

.

_‘Don’t complain if he clings on you all night.’_

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Come on, how old do you think I am?

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_‘He’s a lot smaller than Marc so it’s ok.’_

_‘What? You and Marc still sleep together?’_

_‘…He’s my brother.’_

_‘I know. But… don’t do that anymore.’_

_‘But he’s my brother…’_

_‘…’_

.

GUYS.

I’m trying to sleep for real after all this pretending!

.

_‘And you still sleep with your friend.’_

_‘They’re my friends.’_

_‘…’_

_‘Ok. I’m sorry. My fault.’_

_‘Good.’_

_‘Goodnight then.’_

_‘Night.’_

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FINALLY.

.

.

…

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.

Just when I think that things cannot be anymore embarrassing… I’m wrong.

Because at the moment I wake up, I’m ON someone. And I don’t think it’s Franky because he has never smell this good. We all use cheap toiletries that come with a room.

So, it’s Alex.

Yes.

I spent half of my night on the chest of former Moto3 World Champion which is also my best friend’s boyfriend. Yea.

I open my eyes and almost squeak that he’s already awake and checking something on his phone.

He could have pushed me off, save me from this embarrassment.

“Morning. Sleep well?” He still smiles this sweet, even I’m literally drool on him.

“Sorry.” I roll off him “Where’s Franky?”

“I told him to get us some breakfast, wouldn’t want to wake you.”

He’s too nice, this is unreal. “Gee. Thanks.” I’m about to get up but he show me something from his phone.

It’s a photo.

Of my dear diary.

With that single page on.

WHAT THE?!

“Nicolo sent me this, I’m not sure if I should read but I already did, sorry.”

I wish this is a puke filled bed that Nicolo slept on so I can make him drown on his own vomit. If that brat is trying to kill me, he just succeeds.

“Thank you, you know.” Alex sits up to face me. “…For liking me. It means that you guys are ok that I’m with Franky. But I’m sorry that I make you feel neglected.”

…An angel from Raphael’s Painting indeed.

I feel so bad that he has to know that part because deep down inside, I know it’s common for everyone, right? Not just Franky, Maro, Pecco, Nicco… everyone who already got someone would have to spend less time with friend. I just feel lonely the most because I’m closest to him.

I tell Alex all that. And I already understand. “Now that you can hang out with us after this, we’re not stranger anymore, yes?” I hold up my fist for him to bump on. “You’re one of us now.”

“Thanks, Andrea.”

Now I’m even more envy at my best friend; not only because he got someone he really care for, but this person be able to get along so well that I don’t know if I can find one like this.

I shake my head and get up, should start getting ready for today’s action, yes?

When I’m about to go to the restroom, Alex suddenly mentions.

“And oh, about that betting thing on party night back in Austria…”

Errr shit, he saw THAT part too!! “…Yeah?”

.

He smirks.

.

“You lost.”

.

.

.

Oh My…

…so much for my pure and innocent ears!

I think I have to take that angel comment back!!

.

.

.

.

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Fin.

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.  
(?)

 

A/N : 2016 FM Sepang podium.


End file.
